


but I can count the days (since you’ve been gone)

by lost_n_stereo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, Post-Finale, braven brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_n_stereo/pseuds/lost_n_stereo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post S2 Finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but I can count the days (since you’ve been gone)

Ninety-eight days.

He drags the chalk down the metal wall, one solid white line next to ninety-seven others, and looks out at the tree line. Just like all ninety-seven days before he waits and watches, hoping to see a flash of sunlight streaking through the trees, a wild sea of blonde curls indicating her return.

It hasn’t come yet. He’s starting to lose hope that it ever will.

Static comes from the walkie on his waist and it takes a moment for a voice to come through.

"Blake. You’re needed in Station 4."

He dares one more look at the forest, his eyes flickering back to the chalk lines before detaching the device from his belt.

"On my way."

***

Life since Mount Weather is all brand new to Bellamy.

He has a job, for one. A place to live and friends. His sister. Food and shelter and safety. He should be the happiest that he’s ever been.

He really wishes that he was.

***

The dreams come almost every night.

It’s usually the same dream with minor differences. He’s back in Mount Weather and sometimes he’s hanging upside down with his blood dripping through tubes and other times he’s watching the son of the man he killed walk hand in hand with a group of school kids.

The worst ones are the ones she’s the star of. Seeing her face when he pulled open the door to the mines, his eyes never leaving hers as he hugged Octavia. His hand closing over hers as they pulled the lever down together. The feel of her lips on his cheek when she told him the four words that he never wanted to hear her say.

May we meet again.

 _What a crock of shit_ , he thinks one night when he sits up straight in bed, his hair matted to his head and his breathing labored, a slick sheen of sweat across his brow as he kicks the blankets off his bed.

It’s dark when he makes his way into the night, the only people awake outside are the night guards and he raises a hand to them before making his way around the perimeter to the wall full of chalk lines, a hundred and fifteen now, and he sighs as he drops down in front of it. The cold wall feels good against his heated neck and he leans back against it, lets the cool steel sooth his aching skin as he thinks about the last time he spoke to Clarke.

It wasn’t supposed to end like that.

She wasn’t supposed to walk away. Not from her people, her mother. Not from him.

He closes his eyes as he leans against that damn wall, a wall full of stupid marks that count pointless days that she’s not there with them. If you asked him why he does it, why he makes himself walk down here every day to mark one more, he doesn’t even think he could tell you. It’s just something he’s felt compelled to do since the first day she was gone.

"Bellamy?"

For a split second he thinks that it’s her. That when he opens his eyes she’ll be standing there, a little worse for wear after weeks being out on her own, her blonde hair unkempt but shining in the moonlight.

Then he realizes that he’s definitely going insane because the voice belongs to Raven and when he opens his eyes she’s watching him carefully, a frown across her lips and her arms wrapped around herself.

"What are you doing out here?"

Bellamy shrugs. “Just thinking, I guess.”

Raven scoffs. “Just thinking? Outside in the middle of the night?”

He watches in mild curiosity as she moves towards him, lowing herself slowly until she’s sitting next to him, her bad leg stretched out in front of her.

"She’s fine. You know that, right?" she asks after a few quiet moments. "It’s Clarke. She’s a bad ass. A warrior. She can survive anything."

Bellamy doesn’t respond, just closes his eyes again as he thinks about Raven’s words. She’s right. Clarke can survive anything. He’s watched her prove that time and time again. It doesn’t mean that he’s not worried about her.

"A hundred and fifteen days, huh? Has it really been that long?"

He glances over at Raven, who is half turned around to count the chalk marks lining the wall behind them.

"A hundred and sixteen now," he responds. "I’m sure it’s past midnight."

Raven chuckles quietly as she turns back around. “Two-thirty to be exact.”

"And Wick wasn’t mad when you got out of bed in the middle of the night?" Bellamy laughs a little when Raven smacks his shoulder. "What in the hell are you doing out this late anyway?"

Raven shrugs as she settles herself back against the wall. “I like to take walks at night. Get some air, clear my head. This place can be such a zoo during the day. Is it weird that I almost miss the days when it was just us ‘kids’?” She makes the little quotation marks with her fingers.

"Not at all," he answers honestly because he’s had the exact same thought before. "Life was hard but we had each other, you know?"

"We had Clarke," Raven says needlessly and Bellamy sighs.

"Yeah, we had Clarke."

Raven hesitates for a minute before putting her hand on Bellamy’s arm. “She’s going to come back.”

"What if she doesn’t?"

It’s a thought he’s had thousands of times over the past three and a half months but he’s never actually said the words out loud.

"Bellamy," Raven says his name so seriously that he’s forced to look her in the eye. "Clarke will come back. I know it."

When he’s lying in his bed less than an hour later, he replays those four words in his head over and over.

May we meet again.

 _Damn it, Clarke_ he thinks as he closes his eyes, the darkness threatening to swallow him whole. _Please come back._

***  
One hundred and twenty-nine.

He’s just finished sliding the chalk down the metal wall when he hears a shout coming from the other side of camp. His hand is on his gun and he’s running across camp as a group of people surrounds the main gate.

Miller, Jasper & Monty are in the crowd and Bellamy calls out to them when he gets closer. “What’s going on?”

"Look," Miller says, pointing to the main gate and Bellamy is positive that he’s seeing things. That this is a dream that he’s going to wake up from any minute.

Clarke is standing there, her arms tight around her mother and her eyes closed, a smile on her face that makes Bellamy’s heart thud painfully in his chest.

There is chatter coming from everywhere and when he manages to tear his gaze away from Clarke he sees Raven in the crowd, her grin wide as she mouths “Told you so.”

When he looks back at Clarke she is staring right at him and his breath catches in his throat. He’s been dying to look into those eyes for months. Eyes that he thinks he could get lost in if she gave him half a chance.

She walks up to him and wraps her arms around him and his eyes fall close as he holds onto her tighter than he ever has before.

"I’m glad you’re back," he says quietly and he can feel her breathe in deeply before she lets him go.

"Me too."

"So how did it go? _Where_ did you go?”

Clarke laughs quietly. “I have a lot to fill you in on. But first,” she glances up at him, her eyes shining brightly and he thinks that these months away did more for her than he’ll ever know. “First, I think you owe me a drink.”

Bellamy grins for what feels like the first time in weeks.

"You got it."  
***  
He’s with her a week later when they pass his wall and he winces a little when she stands in front of it, her fingers coming up to touch the marks carefully.

"You counted?" She asks incredulously, her eyes tracing the white lines over and over. "I can’t believe you counted."

"It made it easier," he answers easily and suddenly he realizes why he made the marks in the first place. She’s just watching him curiously. "It was something I could control. You needed to leave, I get that now. But at the time, I felt like I could have done more. Said more. I don’t know. Maybe that doesn’t make sense at all."

Clarke shakes her head. “Thank you.”

"For what?"

Clarke smiles as she looks back at the wall. “For caring enough to count the days.”

He wonders if she knows exactly how much he cares, if she can see right through the act that he’s put on in front of her since he watched her slide a knife into Atom’s neck, and a small part of him hopes that she doesn’t.

The little smile she gives him when she heads away from the wall lets him know that he’s screwed and she knows exactly how much he cares.

He doesn’t even mind, not if it means that she’s back for good.


End file.
